


You Must Gather Your Party Before Venturing Forth

by unrealkinkster (criticalkink)



Category: Critical Role (Web Series) RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bondage, Group Sex, Multi, OT8, Oral Sex, Rope Bondage, Rough Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 19:33:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11996520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/criticalkink/pseuds/unrealkinkster
Summary: Matt offers his friends a very special act of apology after the Chroma Conclave attack on Emon leaves them emotionally shaken.





	You Must Gather Your Party Before Venturing Forth

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written in January 2016.

Matt holds his breath as Marisha buckles the cock ring tight, holding him good and hard. He’s not going anywhere without her permission. Or rather, he’s not coming anywhere without her permission. He’s assuming it’s Marisha, anyway, because he can’t see thanks to the blindfold. His knees are bent and spread, ass angled up for ease of use, but not so much that his cock can’t be ridden. Taliesin has woven him into a shibari web. About the only part of his body he can move is his mouth and hands, and even his hands are limited to about a foot either side of his face, where he can touch anyone but himself.

Oh, and he’s on his own damn DM’s table, without so much as a screen to hide what’s going on from the players surrounding him.

Most of the others are just a quiet hum of voices, debating among themselves who’s going to go first, who’s going to do what. Ashley peals out a cute little giggle at something someone else has said, but it’s a joke Matt’s not in on. Laura says, “Damn it, Marisha,” in reference to who knows what. Probably Marisha calling the shots, giving them a marching order.

The one voice he can’t hear at all is Taliesin’s, and that’s because Taliesin is sitting on the table between Matt’s feet, patiently stretching him open. He’s up to two fingers that curve perfectly against the small bundle of nerves that sends arousal shooting through Matt’s body. If Matt could see, he knows Taliesin would be looking down at him, not at the others. Taliesin is good at blocking out everything but what he wants to be aware of.

Taliesin’s fingers withdraw for a moment and then return. More lube. A third finger. Matt obediently lifts his hips and spreads as wide as he can. He’s not bound to silence, and when Taliesin’s fingers go to work on him again he lets out an uncontrolled groan.

The others fall silent. He can feel them all looking at him. “Ohhhh,” Ashley says.

“You lucky bitch, Marisha.” That’s Liam. The slap that follows is Marisha objecting to being called a bitch. Matt wonders what he’s going to get called when Liam’s turn rolls around, and shivers. They’re supposed to be staying quiet, making him guess who’s doing what to him, but this group? Really? He doubts like hell they’ll be able to keep their mouths shut.

Taliesin is apparently done with warming him up, fingers sliding out wetly. His breath ghosts over Matt’s cock, treating him with a slow lick before he moves away. Maybe it’s to join the others, or maybe it’s just a ruse to make Matt think it’s not Taliesin who’s going to get first go at him.

The first person to come to him doesn’t go anywhere near his ass, though. They settle astride his head, facing the foot of the table, and he smells woman and sex and wetness. Not Marisha. He’d know if it were Marisha. Whoever she is, she leans down and laps at the tip of his cock, making Matt jerk with surprise. He’s rewarded with a light laugh, and he can’t wait any longer, hands coming up to grasp her thighs, pulling her down to where he can drag his tongue over her. This time it’s no light laugh. This time it’s a low moan, and it’s echoed by the watchers. Matt wishes he could see them—see if they’re keeping each other entertained while they wait their turns.

The woman atop of him rocks down against his mouth, and Matt closes his lips over her clit, sucking lightly at first, trying to gauge what works for her. She whimpers, her hands coming down on his chest for balance. Matt tightens his grip on her thighs. He’s almost positive it’s Ashley, but she’s managing to maintain her quiet enough for him to not quite be sure.

Then someone else is on top of him, swinging a leg over him to straddle his waist, and Matt lets out an “uh!” of surprise as his cock slips into someone else’s pussy in one slick, controlled movement. He would like to think he would know if she was Marisha, but he’s engulfed in sensation right now. He keeps licking and sucking at the salty-sweet skin of the woman who’s occupying his mouth, and bucks up into the tight clenching heat of the other woman riding his cock. In the darkness behind his blindfold he can just about see them: Ashley on his face, biting her lip maybe, her little hands splayed on his chest; Laura (he is sure it is Laura) grinding down against his cock, one hand between her legs teasing at her own clit. He can feel her fingers there; she touches the cock ring more than once.

He hears the footsteps before anything else; someone moving into position at the foot of the table behind Laura. The hands that settle on his thighs, pushing them wider, are too big to be anyone but Travis’s. Matt tries hard to focus on Ashley—she’s moving faster now, letting out breathy little gasps—but when Travis’s cock nudges at his entrance he loses all concentration and falters completely.

A sharp, wordless tug on his hair from behind reminds him of what he’s got to do. Ashley is suddenly a lot steadier straddling his face; Matt can smell Marisha’s light perfume and envisions her holding Ashley up. While Laura’s still making good use of his cock, and Travis is working steady strokes into his ass, Matt puts all of his attention on Ashley, suckling at her clit, licking into her, slipping two fingers inside her and seeking out her g-spot.

It’s this last that makes her cry out, and although it’s wordless it is unmistakably—

“Ashley,” Matt says confidently, his lips brushing against her slick lips. Probably only she and Marisha can actually hear him, but it’s part of the game.

She laughs breathlessly, easing herself off of him with Marisha’s help, and leans down to kiss him on the lips. “Wow.”

Marisha murmurs something to her, and Matt hears the soft creak of someone sitting on the adjacent table.

Right then is when Laura and Travis get serious. She rides down on Matt’s cock at the same time as Travis thrusts into his ass, so that every sensation possible hits him at once. He’s glad nobody is using his mouth right now because he needs it to whimper, hands clawing at the ropes around his wrists. He can feel Travis’s hand between Laura’s legs; one finger rubbing slippy-wet over her clit, another finger exploring the cock ring tight around Matt’s base.

Where Ashley made him feel like he was doing everything for her, these two make him feel much more like an accessory, a particularly interesting couple’s toy that happens to be alive and breathing. Breathing and, as it starts to seem they could go on forever, begging. First it’s to let him come, which just makes Marisha laugh—she’s down by them now, she moves like a goddamn cat—and then it’s for them to come.

“You can go harder than that,” Ashley says lightly. “He likes it. I could feel it when you started.”

Matt can’t fucking believe it—they’re metagaming _sex_.

Laura takes Ashley’s advice. Leans forward, plants her hands on Matt’s chest where she can pinch his nipples, and then when he groans starts riding down harder. It throws Travis off his rhythm for three or four strokes, but then he picks up and starts thrusting harder and deeper. Matt lets out a hoarse shout and someone kisses him to silence him. He thinks it’s Taliesin but it’s such a there-and-gone kiss that he’s really not sure.

“Fuck, oh, fuck,” Travis says, fingers abruptly digging into Matt’s thighs. His voice gets muffled and Laura gasps and Matt can picture Travis’s mouth descending on the juncture of Laura’s neck and shoulder, nosing through her dark hair to bite down. As if obedient to some secret synchronized drive, Laura’s pussy tightens around Matt’s cock and she lets out a long, “ _Ohhhh_ ,” coming apart around him even as Travis lets go, spurting deep inside him, filling him up.

“Laura,” he says, and then, “Travis,” rewarded with a pair of sated sighs. When Laura lifts off of him the cool air hitting his cock reminds him just how incapable he is of actually coming, at least in part because she gives him a goodbye flick to the cock ring.

Travis pulls out of him and Matt whimpers at suddenly feeling empty. Marisha has planned for this eventuality, though, and Travis’s cock is almost immediately replaced by one of his favorite plugs, keeping him held open until such time as the next person wants to use him.

The mouth descending on his cock is unexpected. Rough lips, a scrape of teeth, the tentative draw of a tongue over him. Unpracticed, untried. A hand comes down on his belly when he tries to ride up into the touch. He’s licked clean with maddening slow strokes; he can feel his own fluids beading up, mixing with Laura’s, and a faint sound of surprise when whoever it is gets that taste of him.

“Travis,” he says again, and the mouth on him gives a brief parting suck before it’s gone. He assumes that means he was right. He doesn’t have long to think about it, though; someone else tugs his hair, pulling his head to one side, and there’s the nudge of their cock against his lips. Not Marisha playing a game with a dildo, as she had done to warm him up to the idea of this: this is flesh and blood and a whole lot of pre-come. Matt tries to deal with that first, licking quickly with short strokes, but the person is having none of that, pushing straight into his mouth. Matt can feel the overflow of his saliva and whoever’s pre-come this is running down over his cheek.

He’s genuinely not sure if this is Liam or Sam. Whichever it is they’re remaining commendably quiet. The hand in his hair is a tense fist. When he tries to reach up to work the person’s shaft and balls with his hand, their other hand comes down and pins his to the table.

Someone else starts dragging their tongue over his cock in slow strokes and he can’t even begin to imagine who. Travis, back for another curious taste? Marisha, making sure he’s just the right degree of hard? Laura, seeking out her own taste on him? To make matters worse, a second tongue joins theirs, and Matt groans around his mouthful, hips bucking.

The hand in his hair pulls his head further back, the cock in his mouth pressing insistently deeper, and Matt instinctively swallows against the intrusion, trying to get his tongue to where it can do some good. He’s almost positive this is Liam now, just because of the sheer roughness. On the other hand, Ashley did inform the whole room that he likes it rough.

The two tongues lapping at his cock are going a long way toward making him wish he could reach down and just yank the cock ring off and relieve the intense tension. His hands twitch as if to do so and someone standing behind him at the head of the table grabs his wrists, pinning them down with a firm grasp. He feels their thumbs rubbing over the soft skin of his inner wrists; the surprisingly tender touch makes him groan.

The person fucking his mouth makes an irritated noise and shoves right down into his throat, forcing him to try to draw agonizing short breaths through his nose. They rock their hips in quick, brutal thrusts, and Matt has to work hard not to gag, to keep doing his duty and sucking. Whoever’s got his wrists gathers them up to pin them with one hand, and their other hand grazes his cheek, gathering the mixture of fluid that he’s drooling and rubbing it over his taut lips.

Just when he thinks he’s got this, that he’s going to make it through, someone else straddles his waist. When she comes down on him Matt makes a strangled noise and gets a little breathing room. Whoever she is she’s facing the foot of the table and he can hear the faintest of whispers and then kissing sounds. Marisha? It doesn’t feel like Marisha. Laura, back for seconds? He tries to thrust up, to perform his service, but she doesn’t seem terribly interested in much aside from rocking down gently against him.

By contrast, he’s literally pulled back to what he’s supposed to be doing with his mouth, with another series of rapid deep thrusts. Matt hums softly, making an effort to let the sensation be a feeling rather than a sound, and feels a shiver run through the man he’s sucking off. Still no words. The roughness still makes him think it’s Liam, but surely he couldn’t be this quiet? Maybe it’s Taliesin. It just doesn’t seem like Taliesin. He hums again, swallowing against the head of whoever’s cock it is, and hears a quiet, choked-off whimper.

It’s killing him that he can’t figure out whose cock is in his mouth. And at the same time it’s like having his own personal glory hole. The thought makes his cock twitch, and the woman riding him gasps and clenches around him. He’s now pretty sure it’s Ashley, and maybe she’s kissing Travis, or maybe Travis is the one pinning his hands.

This game started out so easy.

He employs a different tactic—he’s getting rough, so he’s going to give rough. He lets his teeth scrape ever so slightly along the length of the cock in his mouth as it slips between his lips, and this time he feels a strong pulse in response. The fingers in his hair tighten hard, so Matt does it again. He hears a low animalistic moan and feels the cock between his lips grow abruptly harder for one moment before its load is shot down his throat, hard quick pumps that make him swallow and swallow and swallow, frantically trying to get it all down so he doesn’t make a mess. Whoever it is holds his head steady, not giving him any room to escape, and some of the mingled fluids run down the side of his face anyway.

Then his mouth is freed. Matt gasps for breath, licks his lips, inhales again, and says, “Liam.”

“Wrong,” Liam says. Matt can’t tell where he is. Whoever’s riding him pauses mid-movement. He hears someone unzip a bag. The person riding him lifts completely off of him; there’s a low noise of complaint, which is answered by Laura saying, “Greedy.”

“Ashley,” Matt says, and she gives his cock a friendly squeeze with one hand. Matt pulls one hand free and beckons her to the head of the table, stretching his hand to the full play of his rope, fingers butting up against her wetness. She comes to him so readily; he can picture her flushed pink and smiling, and wishes so hard that he could see her properly. The hand cupping his cheek goes away and he feels Ashley shift to lean against whoever it is who’s still leaning down on his other wrist. He tries to take his time exploring her with his fingers, but an all too familiar sound from the foot of the table makes it hard to focus.

Marisha’s tapping her crop against her thigh.

Matt knows that part of the game is punishment for incorrect guesses. And although he doesn’t get any correlating reward for correct guesses, just the pleasure of serving, as Ashley rubs against his fingers and he brings her off again he says, “Ashley, Ashley, Ashley,” like he’s praying to her.

She leans down, kisses his reddened, spit-slick mouth, and whispers, “Matt,” against his lips. He can feel her smile. “Matt, Matt, Matt.”

Then they’ve all backed away, even whoever’s been holding his wrists, and he hears the whistle of the crop coming down.

On his back is the worst place to be for this. On his front, or over something specifically designed for impact play—that’s the way to go. As it is, the crop slashes at his thighs: one, two, three, four, five on the left, and then the same again on the right. Marisha does not pull her strokes at all. Matt hears a shocked murmur and thinks it may be Laura, surprised that this is actually happening, that the punishment is real.

Marisha trails the tip of the crop down the underside of Matt’s cock—which, even with the pain, has not softened in the slightest—and taps it lightly against his tightly drawn-up balls. “Don’t get it wrong again,” she says, and he can envision her face, serious and stern, but with that playful light in her eyes that says she’s secretly hoping he’ll fuck up again.

Matt kind of expects a few minutes’ respite, maybe a hushed discussion about what they’ve just seen, but no such thing happens. Someone wipes the last of Sam’s come (he is now sure it was Sam, not Liam) off his cheek. Someone else eases the plug from his ass, not bothering overmuch with checking his condition beyond a perfunctory stroke around his rim (Matt whines and bucks; obviously a yes) before pushing into him. It’s one fast hard thrust, slamming into him with a slap of skin on skin. He doesn’t need to be able to see to know this is Liam, looking down at him with that ever intense gaze, shifting position to get Matt’s knees as high as he can, almost against his chest, trapping his cock. Matt can’t hold back his reaction, which is to howl with pleasure and the pain of being denied. He tilts his hips up as much as he can, offering himself up.

As if he needed any more evidence that this is Liam, he feels breath on his cheek and the whisper of, “Been looking forward to this, you magnificent little master?”

Matt feels his cheeks flare with heat. Only Marisha calls him ‘little master’. Has she told everyone?

“I know I have,” Liam goes on.

“More than just a tease this time,” Matt manages to gasp out, trying to say it just to Liam. Judging from the quiet snicker he hears, at least one other person heard him, someone standing by his head. Marisha, probably, overseeing every step, every movement. But then a hand slips under the back of his head, cradling it, to push a cushion under it so he can keep his head up and Liam can whisper against his ear, and it’s not Marisha. Fingers stroke his cheek as they withdraw. He’s pretty sure that’s Taliesin.

“Now I have your undivided attention...” Liam nips at his earlobe. “Are you just going to take this?”

Matt squeezes tight around him, turns his head to find Liam’s cheek with his lips, and then stretches the extra inch to bite at Liam’s throat, feeling his pulse thrumming away just below the skin. Liam laughs, deep and low, and seizes Matt’s hands, bearing down on them until the fine bones almost grind together.

“Don’t break him,” Laura says anxiously.

“I’m just showing him what happens to people who make my sister cry,” Liam responds, and Matt has to bite down hard on his own lip not to laugh. Liam clearly feels him trying to suppress it, though, because he withdraws and then slams back into Matt. Despite having been kept open by the plug this whole time, this is a different kind of stretching, and Matt’s reduced to whimpering.

“For someone who usually does a lot of talking, you’re pretty fucking quiet right now, Matthew,” Liam says right by Matt’s ear. “No dirty talk? What a disappointment.”

Matt tries to unscramble his thoughts, summons up his most insinuating voice, and says Liam’s name right into his ear, low and drawn-out. “Liam... give yourself credit... for making me speechless.”

“For once,” Liam breathes, sounding cocky as all fuck.

Matt summons up another burst of thought and this time it’s a sudden strong intuition. “You’ve wanted this for a while.”

Liam growls, puts a hand over Matt’s mouth and starts slamming into him. Matt manages one laugh against his palm—he got that one right—before the sheer overwhelming force of the reality of what’s happening hits him. This service, this servitude, the deep-seated need to give pleasure, has him shuddering and groaning under Liam.

“Don’t you fucking dare come, you bastard,” Liam says.

Matt stretches his arms as wide as he can manage, makes a _bring it on_ gesture, and they fall upon him.

He now knows Ashley well: she helps herself to one hand, her littler fingers pressing against his to push two of them inside her. Someone’s fingers close his other hand over someone’s cock: that’s got to be Travis again, thick and hard, his skin moving velvet-smooth over rock hardness. Fingers tipped with long nails pinch at his nipples: Laura, he thinks. Another hand snakes between his body and Liam’s, seeking and squeezing his cock, and it could be anyone.

And all through this Liam doesn’t miss a single fucking stroke, one hand planted solidly on the table, the other hand still across Matt’s mouth, catching all the sounds that try to escape him. He’s cursing steadily, a stream of imprecations meant only for Matt’s ears, filth and endearments evenly mixed.

Matt can’t focus on any one person. He _can’t_. He can’t tell any more who’s touching him where. Ashley’s got herself pretty well worked out, doing half the work herself, apparently pretty content to just have his fingers pressed along her and into her. Travis—probably Travis—is similarly using him for assistance, his fingers wrapped around Matt’s fingers, jerking himself off with Matt’s hand. As for the hands on his chest and cock, he no longer has any sense of whose they are.

Liam removes his hand from Matt’s mouth and leans down to capture his lips in a bruising kiss. Matt ends up damn near folded in half from Liam’s weight on him. It feels fucking amazing. Liam’s hand slips under the back of his neck, holding him to the kiss, licking into his mouth like he wants to take ownership of Matt absolutely all over.

He probably does.

Through the roaring of his own pulse in his ears, Matt can dimly hear an exchange of words that ends with Laura saying, “Go ahead, he’s all yours,” and a faux-shocked gasp from Travis. Travis withdraws and half a minute later Matt knows where he’s gone: Ashley’s thighs part and Travis pushes into her from behind, pulling Matt’s hand out of the way. Ashley plants her hands on the table by Matt’s head and Liam lifts his mouth off Matt’s to kiss her. Laura leans over Matt from the other side, taking a turn to kiss each of them: Matt then Liam then Ashley. Travis rocks into Ashley with gentle strokes that are so very at odds with the way that Liam is still relentlessly pounding into him.

“Don’t you. Ever. Need to. Take a breath?” Matt gasps.

Liam chuckles wickedly. “I could fuck you all night, little master.”

It certainly feels like he’s telling the truth. He’s still rock hard, expressing no difficulty keeping up his rhythm, and seemingly he’s not even having any trouble staying on his feet.

“I don’t get to come til you all have,” Matt reminds him.

“Maybe that’s the point.” Liam kisses him again, rough and bruising, catching the helpless moan that Matt lets out. Matt’s cock pulses uncomfortably, trapped by their bodies and the cock ring. “Maybe one of us agreed to wait as long as possible to keep you like this.”

“No,” Matt says. “Oh, no.” He feels so sore and good and used already. He doesn’t want this to stop. He wants it to be over now. He’s bursting with need and lust and he can’t contain it all.

Coming takes him completely by surprise.

He can’t actually _shoot_. Not held back by the ring as he is. Not without permission, either. But despite all this he feels the whipcrack through his body, a sudden delirious burst of pleasure that has him clenching around Liam, crying out hoarsely into Liam’s mouth. Liam groans with surprise and goes still except for where his cock pulses hard hot bursts inside Matt.

“Fuck!” That’s Liam, and Travis, and Marisha. Ashley lets out a softer “Oh!” and Matt feels her coming, feels her trigger Travis, as the dominoes all fall down.

There’s a long moment where all of them have to stop to recover. Liam’s forehead rests against Matt’s.

“Liam,” Matt says softly.

“Matthew. You glorious asshole.”

Matt doesn’t know if Liam means figuratively or literally. He does know that it takes Liam a long while before finally pulling out of him in a slow controlled movement that makes Matt shiver. It’s Liam, too, who wipes him up before slipping the plug back inside him, not without a slow rub of his thumb around Matt’s stretched rim.

“Liam. Ashley. Travis,” Matt says belatedly.

“I think Ashley just likes the sound of her own name,” Sam says.

“Fuck off,” Ashley suggests. Her voice is close to his head; Matt imagines her lying on the adjacent table. She sounds happily wrecked. The thought that she’d quite probably take his place if offered occurs to him. God, she’d be beautiful.

“Distracted, pet?” Marisha asks.

“Tell you later.”

“You’ll tell us now.”

Matt swallows hard but goes for it. “Ashley in the middle,” is how he manages to phrase it.

The only thing that breaks the following silence is a long inhale from Ashley herself. “Ohhhh,” she murmurs, as though the idea of being bound and sexually tormented by a group of her friends has never occurred to her before.

“That might be worth thinking about. But we’re not done with you yet.” Marisha sounds shaken, clearly not expecting Matt’s thought.

Taliesin leans almost casually against Matt’s knees, apparently carrying on a hushed conversation with Liam. At least, that’s how it starts. Matt catches the snap of a lube bottle top being opened. Taliesin’s voice gets shakier. Liam calls him “Percival” at one point and they both laugh, except that in Taliesin’s case the laugh turns into a gasp.

“I’m supposed to be—Liam can’t serve instead of me,” Matt whispers, hoping that Marisha can hear him.

“He’s not, don’t you worry. Soon,” Marisha promises.

Matt clenches around the plug. Strains against the ring. Pulls against the ropes. Strange to have so much freedom while being so thoroughly tied. He can use his hands on others, lift his ass for use, spread wider if needed, and offer service with his cock. And yet he’s incapable of one simple thing: attaining his own release.

Marisha boosts herself onto the table and swings one long leg over to easily straddle Matt’s face, facing the foot of the table. He’s immediately engulfed in the familiar sweet smell of her sex, strong enough to let him know that someone else has been working her up, and she’s wet enough for it to have been someone else’s mouth on her, not just their hand.

“Who?” he whispers against her thigh, and she doesn’t speak but traces L-A-U-R-A with her fingertip on his chest. Matt moans; he would have given a great deal to watch that particular scene. Laura’s glossy brown hair spread out over Marisha’s thighs, Marisha biting her lip for silence’s sake. Or perhaps silenced in a different way, using her own mouth on Laura at the same time, taking advantage of the space between the tables.

She holds herself poised just out of reach for what seems like an eternity. Matt licks futilely at nothing but air. When he turns his head to go for her thigh, she stops him with just a fingertip under the chin.

So Matt waits.

He hears soft wet sounds at the foot of the table. Taliesin’s stifled whimper. Travis says “holy shit” very quietly. Ashley laughs and is cut off by a kiss. Travis then says “fucking gnomes”, also very quietly, but not without making everyone laugh.

Matt waits in an agony of need. In this moment he could tear the blindfold away, be a part of the quieter entertainment, leave behind the goal of serving everyone.

He could, but he won’t.

The next thing he hears is someone getting their ass slapped, and he instinctively flinches before realizing it isn’t him. He readies himself for the certain next step: the removal of the plug, the push of Taliesin into him.

Instead, the table rocks a little as someone else climbs onto it with him, pushing his legs down to get at his cock. When he feels the solidity of the body pressing down on him, the hand that fists around his cock, and the tight slick heat that comes down on him, he understands. So that’s what Liam was doing to Taliesin: opening him up.

Taliesin sinks down onto him slowly, so hot, so tight, that Matt lets out an “Oh, God!” before he’s even half done. His hands clench and unclench; Marisha takes them and presses them to her thighs, and Matt clings to her for dear life.

Taliesin pauses, shifts a little, and then with one longer, harder downward thrust of his hips takes Matt all the way in. “Ffff-uck,” he groans.

Marisha finally lowers herself to where Matt can reach her with his tongue, and the two of them begin moving in such perfect unison Matt cannot imagine that they haven’t planned it all out.

At first he can focus on Marisha, because she is so familiar and easy to please. The way that Taliesin’s slowly riding down against him, with what’s an almost gentle rocking motion, isn’t terribly distracting compared to, say, Liam pounding into him. Matt works on Marisha with his lips and tongue, sucking and licking at her, fingers pushing into her one-two-three, until the tensing of her thighs and the way she’s pushing down to meet his mouth faster and faster tells him he’s got her there.

She puts her hands flat on his chest, leaning forward, and Matt closes his lips over her clit, sucking fast, hearing her moan muffled by the sound of a kiss. Definitely Taliesin. Marisha and Taliesin. He pushes up to drive a little harder into Taliesin’s ass and is rewarded with the sound of both of them gasping.

“Marisha,” he murmurs against her wet, wet skin, and his fingers inside her move hard and fast and she’s coming, soaking his face, her arms and thighs shaking as she barely holds herself up. Matt hears Travis’s quick heavy footsteps and Marisha’s suddenly lighter, Travis catching her and holding her up. She shifts and lifts up and Matt can tell that Travis has just clean lifted her right off of him.

“Marisha,” he says again, and she responds with a shaky, “Yes.”

“Very much so,” Liam adds, and his hand in Matt’s hair yanks him into a rough messy kiss. “You have a good mouth on you, Mercer.”

Matt bites Liam’s lower lip by way of response, and Liam laughs, pulling away. Not for long, though; he’s hard again and he pushes into Matt’s mouth just as hard and fast as he’d pushed into Matt’s ass. Matt can taste the vague astringentness of whatever he’s cleaned off with in between, but that fades fast to be replaced by salt, skin, and musk.

“Quick recovery,” Matt manages to say when Liam pulls back to adjust his angle.

Liam laughs. “You can’t see yourself. If you could you’d know why.”

“He’ll get the chance,” Sam comments, and Matt freezes.

“What?”

Liam pushes back into Matt’s mouth, yanking his head back by a fistful of hair. “Sam’s been taking pictures for posterity.”

Matt howls around his mouthful of cock and feels another surge of arousal flood his body, making his own cock pulse in one of those not-quite-climaxes. Taliesin lets out an, “Ah!” of surprise and forsakes his soft, slow, almost dreamlike movements in favor of riding down hard, his inner muscles squeezing and flexing around Matt’s cock. Liam tugs Matt’s head back further so that he can thrust straight down Matt’s throat, and Matt lies there with his hands in fists, nails biting into his palms, accepting all they want of him.

Someone’s hand comes down on the base of the plug and eases it out of him. Matt tenses a little, expecting—who’s left, Sam again?—to take its place, but instead it’s two fingers, tipped with long nails that means one of the girls. They curl against his prostate and Matt tries to spread a little wider, groaning around Liam’s cock. He’s not sure he can take much more of this. He doesn’t know how long it’s been. He wants it to last forever.

He expects Taliesin to come first, especially when whoever’s playing with Matt’s ass pushes a third finger in, making Matt buck up into Taliesin and Taliesin consequently cry out. But he doesn’t. Instead it’s Liam who does, pulling back and giving himself a couple of rough jerks with his cockhead resting on Matt’s tongue, flooding Matt’s mouth with the taste of him.

“Swallow it all... I know your mouth can take it,” Liam says in a low growl intended for Matt’s ears only. “Next time I’m gonna take your mouth first, and make it last a good long time.”

Matt swallows, nearly chokes, gasps for air, and simply responds with, “Liam.” He’s not supposed to be saying anything but their names, and he’s already broken that rule more than once. With Liam. But then, he’s starting to find a lot of rules he could break with Liam.

“If you’re quite finished,” Taliesin says dryly, and Liam gives Matt a goodbye cheek pinch before retreating. The fingers inside Matt—Laura?—twist and press against his taut nerves one last time before withdrawing.

So, Taliesin’s last, to work him back down? It seems like a good thing. Slow and gentle, to contrast with everything else.

But Matt quickly finds that slow and gentle is its own torment. Taliesin’s breathing is even and steady, his hands planted on Matt’s chest a welcome weight, and the long slow slide of his tight heat taking Matt in is regular and even. At first Matt tries to communicate his need for more with just Taliesin’s name and attempts to thrust up into Taliesin’s body, but Taliesin lifts away from him so he can’t quite reach. He can picture the look on Taliesin’s face, his careful thinking look, and groans.

He was afraid Liam might wind up fucking him sore. He’s more afraid that Taliesin _won’t_.

It’s maddening, but eventually Matt finds the right way to move: tiny thrusts upward each time Taliesin comes down on him. The room has gone so silent that he can hear Taliesin’s soft moans, such little sounds each time their bodies meet, each time flesh slaps against flesh.

Then Taliesin’s leaning down, his mouth meeting Matt’s. The change in position traps his cock between his body and Matt’s, and there’s something not quite right about how it feels, but Matt can’t work out what.

“How are you holding up?” Taliesin murmurs against his lips.

“I could die happy.” Matt brings his knees up to press against Taliesin’s ass. “How are you holding out?”

Taliesin laughs. “So Marisha didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” It’s like whispering to one of them in-game, except Taliesin is still making those slow little movements and if that happened on camera then, well.

“She ringed me as well.”

So _that’s_ what he can feel between them: a second ring snug around the base of Taliesin’s cock. And he’s been like that all night, presumably: held taut like Matt himself, hard and needy and waiting, watching each of the others taking turns, but holding himself back.

Matt can’t process it. Can’t fathom... “What? Why?”

“Because,” Taliesin says.

A hand reaches between them. Laura. She unbuckles the leather strap around Matt’s base. He almost howls with relief. Her fingers work again and Taliesin’s cry echoes his.

“Because what?” Frustration courses through him. Someone slips the knots binding him to the table; he only notices because Taliesin grabs his wrists and lifts them to go around Taliesin’s neck. Matt clings to him. Taliesin puts his arms around Matt’s shoulders, leans in close.

“Do you trust me?”

This whole night has been one massive exercise in trust. Still... “Yes,” Matt says.

Taliesin laughs, holds him tight, and fucking _rolls_ them both off the edge of the table.

Matt yelps with surprise as they go into free-fall, but it’s only for a split second before they’re caught. Of course they are. He can feel everyone’s hands buoying him and Taliesin up, a perfect catch, before lowering them to the floor—or rather, the discarded clothes scattered on the floor. Travis pinches his thigh right on one of the spots where Marisha whacked him with the crop; when Matt flinches away he drives down into Taliesin, who moans appreciatively.

The blindfold suddenly falls away from his eyes. Liam pulls it away, ruffles his hair, and winks at him before moving back. Matt blinks at the sudden light, although he sees it is only a low light, and looks around. They’re all sitting around in various stages of undress. Ashley’s wearing the shirt that Travis started the night in and has Sam’s head on her lap, stroking his hair. Marisha’s sitting up on one of the tables and Laura’s leaning back against her legs. Travis and Liam, having done the heavy lifting, are just now settling down to lean against each other, unselfconscious about their bare bodies.

Matt feels a little selfconscious, but then he looks down at Taliesin, who’s looking up at him, and it goes away at the look of need on Taliesin’s face.

“Why?” he asks one more time, lips grazing Taliesin’s earlobe.

“Marisha thought you’d like a proper reward at the end of the night.” Taliesin drags his short nails over Matt’s back, running over the criss-cross of the rope that’s still knotted around him, down to his ass. “She thought you’d appreciate this.”

“Fuck, yes,” Matt says fervently, and starts moving. The shock of going off the edge of the table startled him enough to clear his head a little, but as soon as he takes advantage of what he’s being offered he’s immediately flooded with every bit of pent-up tension that’s been building inside him all night.

Taliesin opens to him with ease, shifting position so that Matt can hook his arms under Taliesin’s knees, dragging them up and apart. Now there’s total silence from the others, so that Matt can hear Taliesin’s hectic breathing and the smack of his skin against Taliesin’s.

A terrible thought strikes him and he halts mid-stroke. “This isn’t a trap to get me beaten again, is it? I’ve really earned this?”

“Fuck,” Taliesin groans, arching into him, fingers digging at his hips.

“You’ve earned it, little master,” Marisha confirms.

“If you’re not going to do him, I will,” Ashley says, dissolving into giggles.

Pretty much everything after Taliesin’s response goes unheard, though, because Taliesin squeezes around him and Matt goes into free-fall mentally this time. He drops his forehead to Taliesin’s shoulder and starts driving down into him, withdrawing almost completely each time before slamming back in to the hilt. Taliesin’s moaning and clawing at him and Matt relocates his center of balance to work a hand in between their bodies, fisting around Taliesin’s cock and jerking him in time with his thrusts. Taliesin gasps and groans and it really is the best fucking reward ever.

“God, fuck!” Taliesin snags a handful of Matt’s hair, pulls him into an uncoordinated rough kiss, and Matt feels the hard pulse of Taliesin’s cock in his hand as he comes, hot fluid spurting between them. Taliesin’s body shakes through it, his ass clenching hot and tight and perfect around Matt’s own cock.

“Taliesin,” Matt manages to say against Taliesin’s mouth. “ _Taliesin_.”

His last partner for the night, his last challenge, his final act of service. It’s over. It’s done.

“ _Now_ , damn it,” Taliesin says, and Matt falls apart, coming long and hard into Taliesin’s perfect tight heat, face pressed into the side of Taliesin’s neck, sobbing Taliesin’s name again. Taliesin’s arms wrap tight around him as Matt’s rocked with a surprise aftershock almost as intense.

He feels like he’s going to black out.

Marisha joins them on the floor, nudging a water bottle against Matt’s lips. Matt sips from it and then pulls carefully out of Taliesin, who touches his cheek lightly. After that he can’t get any further, though, and he just flops on the array of clothing spread out over the floor, rolling to his side. Taliesin spoons up behind him. Marisha lies down, wriggles over, and lifts his head onto her stomach, one hand immediately going to comb through his disarrayed hair.

Ashley comes to lie facing him, resting her head on Marisha’s hip and draping her arm over Matt; Taliesin lifts one hand to hold hers. Sam sprawls on the other side of Marisha, also using her as a pillow. Liam settles himself behind Taliesin, murmuring something that Matt can’t hear but that makes Taliesin laugh tiredly. Laura drapes herself over Ashley, and Travis tucks most of his body along the two of them, one long arm going around both of them.

Matt feels wrung out, exhausted, used, alive, and more complete than he can possibly express.

The eight of them manage maybe a full two minutes of quietly resting together, before Sam opens his mouth and says, “So, Ashley... glad you didn’t have to Skype in for this?”

The ensuing laughter ripples through all of them like rain falling on a pond, circles running into each other, overlapping, and just when one person stops another starts. It’s ridiculous and it’s sublime and, Matt thinks, such a very Vox Machina way to end an intense night.


End file.
